


love, you, everything (losing)

by mothraesthetic (burritosong)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Break Up, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4217430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burritosong/pseuds/mothraesthetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yaku's pretty sure that's not how someone should look after you tell them you love them, and that's when he realizes it has to be over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love, you, everything (losing)

**Author's Note:**

> title vaguely from "hold on" by colbie caillat.

They’re in Kuroo’s room having sex on his bed, Yaku riding Kuroo and close so close to coming when he ruins everything by leaning in to kiss Kuroo before saying those three damned words:

“I love you.”

And then Kuroo speaks, opens his mouth and ruins everything, including Yaku’s pending orgasm.

“Um. What?”

Yaku freezes, cold dread climbing up his gut as his heart sinks down to meet it.

“I...love you?” he repeats, but this time his voice wobbles and he sounds unsure about it even though he’s sure about his feelings.

And suddenly he can’t breathe because the look on Kuroo’s face is not the look someone should have when another person says I love you.

Awkwardly, he climbs off Kuroo, because even though he’d _really_ like to get off right now so he can forget this sinking feeling of mortification, there’s no way it’s going to happen now.

He tries to swing a leg around to get out of Kuroo’s lap (who is still _staring_ at him, why won’t he do something besides just _staring_ at him?) at the same time he tries to step off the bed with the other and ends up tripping over himself.

“I have to go,” he says, belatedly, as he reaches for his clothes.

Underwear, check.

Shirt, check.

Pants, check.

“Wait.”

_Where is his damn bra?_

“Morisuke, wait.”

His hands are shaking as he pulls his shirt over his head. Kuroo can keep the damn bra. He hates it anyways. He pulls his warm up jacket on and zips it up to his chin.

_“Wait.”_

Kuroo dives out of bed and manages to latch onto Yaku’s sleeve on one rushed movement.

“Don’t go.”

He can’t bring himself to look at Kuroo. He wants to scream and run and _get away_. His eyes sting and he blinks back his tears.

But he stays.

“What?” he asks, voice shaking and thick with tears he _won’t cry here, dammit_.

“I’m...sorry,” Kuroo says, and to his credit he really does sound sorry.

Yaku wishes he didn’t. If he sounded like he didn’t care this would be so much easier.

Yaku speaks slowly, carefully willing the emotion from his voice. “You don’t say sorry when someone tells you that they love you.”

Not that he would know. He can probably count on one hand the number of times he’s heard those words in his life.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Yaku takes a deep breath and turns to face Kuroo.

Kuroo looks on the verge of tears himself, and Yaku feels his anger melt away because Kuroo looks more upset about not reciprocating his feelings than Yaku feels.

That’s one of the things he loves about Kuroo--his heart.

He sighs hard and rolls his eyes.

“Come here,” he demands, tugging Kuroo toward him. “It’s okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around Kuroo.

And it is. Kind of. It’s not Kuroo’s fault he doesn’t love Yaku.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I know.”

And he does know it. Kuroo’s sole goal in life seems to be making everyone around him happy, and Yaku knows how hard he works to make sure his the people he cares about are happy.

They stand there, holding each other and crying until, eventually, they pull away.

Kuroo grabs some tissues, passing a handful of them over to Yaku before grabbing his boxers. Yaku blows his nose loudly several times, and then drops his used tissues on the floor, figuring that if Kuroo was going to break his heart, he could pick up his mess.

Kuroo’s sitting on the bed and Yaku strips off his pants and jacket and joins him. They end up lying on the bed, arms wrapped around each other and with a sense of finality settling into their bones.

“So I guess this is over then,” Kuroo says softly.

“Yeah,” Yaku says. “It is.”

They lay there in the quiet, neither of them fully ready to let go.

“There’s one condom left,” Yaku says finally, when he can no longer stand the melancholy silence in the room. “I noticed when I was getting a condom out of the box. I was going to tell you when we were done.”

There’s a beat, and then they both look at each other.

“So...”

Slow grins spread across their faces.

“It would be a terrible waste to just leave a single condom,” Yaku says.

“It might expire.” Kuroo says with feigned solemnity. “Or get lonely.”

“One last time?” Yaku asks.

“One last time,” Kuroo agrees.

Kuroo rolls over to reach for the condom while Yaku rises to shuck off his shirt.

“I don’t want to hate you,” Yaku says when Kuroo turns back toward him.

“I don’t want you to hate me too,” Kuroo says. “But I wouldn’t blame you if you do.”

Yaku looks at Kuroo. His usually messy hair is even worse than usual, and there’s a hickey blossoming near his collarbone from before. He’s smiling, but he still looks so sad.

Yaku’s sad, too.

He leans in, a hand on Kuroo’s neck to steady himself, and they kiss, slow and sweet and tender.

“I might tell everyone I give better head than you though,” He admits when they pull apart.

“Then I would have no choice but to corroborate that statement,“ Kuroo says seriously.

They laugh, collapsing into each other, kissing through their giggles. Yaku bites his lip to keep from saying _those words_ again. He’s not going to say them, not going to put either of them through that again, but he thinks them. _  
_

_I love you._

Afterwards, Kuroo curls up against Yaku, tracing his face with a hand and looking very much like he’s trying to memorize Yaku’s features, as if he thinks it’s the last time they’ll see each other.

Eventually though, it becomes too much for Yaku, and he hauls himself up and gets dressed. Kuroo grabs a pair of sweat pants and follows him to the door. When Yaku turns to say goodbye, Kuroo ducks down and then quickly straightens up.

“Sorry, habit.”

“That’s okay.”

They stand facing each other in the doorway, awkward and unsure of what they’re supposed to do.

“See you tomorrow,” Yaku finally says.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Kuroo echoes. “Are we...okay?”

Yaku forces himself to smile. “Yeah, we’re okay,” he says. “We’re okay.”

He hopes if he says it enough, it’ll make it true.  


**Author's Note:**

> lmao i can't stop writing sad fic abt yaku.


End file.
